It's a Dangerous Gig
by Shadowfax220
Summary: After the creature attacks the hunter wakes in it's lair in pain and alone.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own them… I just play with them!_

**Chapter One:**

Pain. It permeated his entire being from the moment awareness returned. He took shallow breaths hoping to dispel the bone deep ache that ran from his left shoulder all the way to his hip. His skin burned, blades ran through his muscles and even his bones throbbed with each breathed. He couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped his lips as he tried unsuccessfully to move.

He heard it walking towards him, coming back for dinner and he knew, without a doubt, that this time, he was the main course. He hoped like hell that the damn thing choked on him. His inability to get past the pain had already cost him one innocent life and he had been forced to watch as the creature had eaten Evan alive. Each of his terrified and pain filled screams had burned itself into his memory.

He was on his right side with his left arm thrown back behind him. His shoulder was swollen painfully. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the skin stretched excruciatingly over the injured area. He could feel the heat of infection setting in and the sticky wetness of blood as it dripped steadily down from his broken ribs to the dirt floor.

He struggled harder, burying the agony and concentrating only on moving. This time he was able to pull his legs up and bunch them under him. He took two deep breaths and pushed off the ground, getting one knee into a kneeling position, and the other flat on the ground, ready to push himself up further. He swayed and the room spun forcing him to close his eyes.

He heard the movement coming from somewhere behind him and reached for the knife he always kept at his belt. He concealed the ten inch blade of the Bowie knife under his wrist and prepared to face the creature. He would have to wait for it to get very close before he could attack. He was grievously injured and had serious doubts about his own survival but he was determined to take the damn thing with him if he could.

He closed his eyes and listened intently as the creature drew nearer. Time slowed to a crawl. His heart pulsed loudly in his chest the beats deafening him as they pounded out the rhythm of his life. His breaths deepened. He pushed back the pain that hammered at him drowning it in determination as he felt the creature stop before him. The rotten scent of decay permeated the air around it nearly causing him to gag. He could feel the creature's hot putrid breath as it bent towards him.

His eyes popped open and he found himself looking into the silver glowing eyes as he sprang into action. Pushing off the ground he rose to meet the creature as it bent towards him striking out with his good arm as though he was going to punch, the blade of his knife swinging out to catch the creature across the throat. He felt his strike brush through fur to bite deeply into flesh, the slight resistance as he severed the muscles and tendons and chipped into bone on his way past the spinal cord and out the other side.

He spun around a full three sixty ignoring the vertigo that slammed into and never even feeling the creatures' claws as they raked across his back. He spun the knife as he did and plunged it deep into the creatures' gut ripping across the soft tissues of its belly, the rancid contents of its stomach and bowels spilling onto his hand.

Shots rang out from somewhere to his right and he couldn't help laughing at the timing of his rescuer. The creature fell forward barreling heavily into him knocking them both to the ground.

Dean Winchester ran forward pocketing his gun as he did and pushed the lifeless carcass of the creature aside. "Oh God, no!" he muttered looking at the beaten and battered form that lay unmoving on the floor of the cave. He reached down and felt for a pulse. A sigh of relief escaped as he found it slow and thready, but there nonetheless.

The other man's weary eyes opened. He looked up into the hazel orbs of his rescuer. He tried to speak but all that came out was a hoarse croak.

"Hey," Dean said a look of concern on his face. "Shhh don't try and talk."

He swallowed, tried to bring some moisture back into his dry throat and tried again despite Dean's instructions. "Dean," he whispered, "it wasn't alone," before his eyes drifted closed again and he slipped into the blissful painless darkness.

"Sam," Dean called. "Sammy!" 

**A/N – Here you go another story that I had running around in my head for the past few weeks. Hope you like it! Thanks again for reading and please let me know by reviewing. I'll have another chapter up tomorrow hopefully so enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own them… I just play with them!_

**Chapter Two: **

"Sam," Dean called again. "Come on damn it!" He looked towards the caves entrance shook his head and lifted the injured man onto his back in a fireman's carry, nearly slipping in the blood and gore before he steadied his burden. Several shots rang out and he heard an unearthly growl coming from the entrance of the cave. "Oh great," Dean muttered. "The bitch is back." Using his free hand Dean pulled his handgun out of his pocket and prepared to defend them as he headed for the entrance.

More shots rang out and the growling stopped suddenly. Dean turned the last corner and rushed out of the cave. Relief surged through him as he saw Sam bent over the carcass of the second dead creature.

Sam looked up as he brother approached. "How bad?" He asked motioning to the man Dean carried. He didn't ask about the other creature.

"Bad," Dean replied. "We need to get him to the hospital fast. Drag that thing into the cave and meet me at the car. We'll come back later and get rid of them."

"What about you?" Sam didn't argue he knew it had to be bad if Dean was willing to put off the mop up and chance someone finding the dead creatures before they could destroy them.

"I'm fine Sam," Dean said. "It never touched me."

Sam looked pointedly at the blood smeared on his brothers' face and body.

"It's not mine," Dean said. "We don't have time for this Sammy we need to move." Without another word to his brother Dean turned and headed the short distance through the woods to where he'd parked the impala. Opening the rear door he placed the other man gently in the back seat, checked again for a pulse nodding to him self when he found it still there, still thready, but still there.

He had just pulled their extensive first aid kid out of the trunk when Sam arrived at run. Dean tossed him the keys and climbed in the back with the first aid kit. They were on the road within seconds. It was at times like this that Sam secretly thanked their father for all the training. Thanks to the many lessons about knowing your surroundings Sam knew exactly where and how far they were from the nearest hospital.

He made the sharp left off the dirt road and onto the paved street gunning the gas and pushing the Impala as fast as it would go. He knew too, from his father's training and the quick glimpses he'd had of the man's injuries that they may not make it on time.

Dean worked furiously in the back seat kneeling awkwardly above the injured man. After cutting off the man's shirt he got his first good look at the extent of his injuries. "Son of bitch," he exclaimed shaking his head wondering how he was even still alive. He worked quickly cleaning the wounds with holy water as he mentally cataloged each injury and rated its importance to the aid he was giving.

Sam listened to his brother as he muttered to himself in the back seat glancing often into the rearview mirror as he thundered down the road. He wasn't sure if Dean was talking to him or himself as he worked.

"Left shoulder's dislocated nothing I can do about that. Four broken ribs… I think at least one punctured a lung that means internal bleeding and difficulty breathing maybe a collapsed lung. Six deep lacerations on the left side from the floating ribs to the right pectoral muscle. Apply pressure to stop the bleeding, not to much I don't want to take the chance of doing more damage from the broken ribs. Contusion to the left temple means a possible concussion."

"Two minutes Dean," Sam told his brother interrupting his litany. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the hospital's number. "Emergency room," he told the operator that answered. The call was transferred to the ER. "Hey, listen," he told the nurse on the other end of the line. "I'm on my there ETA about two minutes. My friend was attacked by a bear." Then he repeated the list of injuries he'd heard his brother calling out before hanging up to concentrate fully on getting them to the hospital.

"No! Damn it!" Dean suddenly shouted from the back seat as the man's breathing ceased while he worked. "Son of a bitch don't you give up on me now!" He reached down and felt for a pulse but didn't find one and started CPR immediately. He cursed as he felt the man's broken ribs grating as he compressed his chest.

Tears glistened in Sam's eyes as he drove making the last turn and seeing the hospital less then a half mile away. He listened to his brother continue to talk through the job. "One, two, three, four, five… breathe. One, two, three, four, five… breathe." Dean repeated over and over as he struggled to keep the man from dying.

Sam pulled into the ER's ambulance bay, horn blaring. He saw the emergency staff running out, one of them pulling a stretcher. He put the car in park and jumped out. "He stopped breathing my brother's performing CPR now."

Dean barely registered that the car had stopped as worked. He didn't hear both the rear and front doors of the car open. It wasn't until someone put their hand on his arm that he took note of the fact that help had arrived.

"We need to get him out of the car," one of the nurses told him.

"I can't stop," Dean replied. "He'll die."

"It's okay," the woman said. "We'll take over, but we need to get him out first. We have a stretcher waiting we'll be quick."

He looked around at the hospital staff. One of them was already applying a neck brace two more were trying to get a backboard into the car but he was in the way. Stopping compressions he quickly exited the car and let them work.

Dean leaned against trunk of the Impala and watched, suddenly completely drained of energy. Within less then a minute they had him on the stretcher and were continuing CPR as they pushed him into the ER.

The nurse who'd spoken with him in the car approached Dean. "Now, let's see about you."

"I'm fine," Dean said. "Just take care of him."

Her eyebrows rose on her face a look of disbelief crossing her face as she gazed at his blood soaked shirt and jacket.

Dean looked down at himself for the first time. He looked at the nurse and said, "It's not mine."  
Nodding she replied, "Do you have a change of clothes?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Come on," she told him. "I'll show you where you can get cleaned up. It's going to be a while before you can see your friend."

Sam opened the trunk and Dean grabbed his bag.

"What's your friends' name?" the nurse asked as they were walking into the ER.

"Bobby," Sam replied. "Bobby Singer."

**A/N – You know... I'm not nearly as good as our boy Kripke at the twists and cliffhangers, but I'm pretty sure I got most of you with this one! Thanks for reading and I hope to have another chapter up tomorrow. Please review... I'll be hiding behind the couch so the rotten fruit can't hit me!! LOL!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own them… I just play with them!_

**Chapter three:**

The creatures were burned, the ashes spread into the winds. All traces of the fierce battle Bobby had fought were buried in what remained of the cave after the brothers had caused its collapse. All their tracks leading to and from area were wiped away just as they'd been taught. Nothing was left.

Bobby was alive… barely. Of the injuries he'd sustained most of them were critical, but they were survivable. The most debilitating of all was the severe loss of blood that had led to the stopping of his heart. The blood had been replaced, but they would not know the cost until Bobby woke up and it was possible that would never happen. They'd been waiting now for two days and they could tell by the silent looks of the nurses that it did not bode well for their friend.

They waited in silence each of them drifting in his own thoughts. Dean stood at the window staring out at the night sky but seeing nothing. He hated hospitals, hated the white wash walls, the sterile smell and the sadness that clung to them. Yet here he was again, watching and waiting, praying silently for someone he cared about to wake up. The words he'd spoken to Sam the day he'd been electrocuted and nearly died were running through his head over and over, "It's a dangerous gig."

Sam sat in the chair by Bobby's bed his hand resting on top of the older man's. He was hoping for some movement, some gentle twitch or any other sign to let him know that their friend was still with them. He listened to mechanical sounds of the equipment in the room, the steady beep of the heart monitor and the all the other quiet sounds that he both need to hear and dreaded at the same time.

They were tired of hospitals, both of them were. Hospitals held too many memories that neither wanted to recall. Other then the equipment the silence in the room was deafening. It beat down on both of them. Tearing away at the walls each had constructed to keep their emotions at bay. It was Dean who broke the silence, startling his brother out of his quiet vigilance.

"Sammy," he said quietly, almost too quietly. "Promise me something."

Sam turned in the seat to look at his brother who was still staring out the window. "What?"

"Promise me that when it's my time, when…," he grew silent for a second before continuing. "I don't want to go in a hospital Sam. I want to be out there away from all this… someplace…" he stopped and was quiet again. But then he continued, "…anyplace but here."

"Dean…"

"Just promise me Sam," Dean said turning and looking at his brother.

Sam stared at Dean at the broken, haunted expression on his brothers' face and he knew he wouldn't be able to deny him. He nodded. "Okay," he said knowing there was no other answer to give. "I promise Dean."

A quick single nod was the only indication that Dean had heard him before he turned again to the window and his own silent thoughts.

Sam understood. He so completely understood. After the last time he'd hoped it would be a long, long time before they saw the inside of a hospital again, but like Dean had once said. "It's a dangerous gig." And that meant that sometimes someone got hurt. He'd told Ava, not that long ago, that harms way didn't really bother him and it didn't. It wasn't the danger that he had trouble with. It was the aftermath of the danger, when things didn't go the way they'd planned, when they were sitting in a hospital room waiting, just like they were now. This was the worst part of the job, the part that took the most out of them.

He stood up, getting closer to the bed again. He closed his eyes and silently prayed the same prayer he'd said hundreds of times in the past two days. Praying Bobby would just open his eyes and look at him. He knew there wasn't going to be a dramatic recovery, not like Dean. Bobby was grievously injured and it was going to take him months to recover but he had to wake up first. Sam opened his eyes and looked again at the older man. He looked so old and frail laying there in the bed. It was so unlike him it was scary.

A nurse came in again, just as they had every thirty minutes for the past forty eight hours. Quickly and efficiently she took Bobby's vital signs. She nodded silently at Sam before slipping quietly out of the room.

Sam sat again, placed his hand once more on Bobby's and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. His eyes drifted closed before he knew it he was sleeping. His dreams were filled with the horrors of past trips to the hospital, some he hardly remembered and some that weren't real. It was a nightmare of blood, broken bones and pain filled memories. He twisted and turned in the chair shaking his head in denial of all that he saw.

Dean heard the familiar sounds of his brother having a nightmare. They'd stopped about four months after Jessica had died but then when their dad too had passed they'd started again. Recently though his brothers' sleep though had been calmer showing signs of going back to normal. He turned to wake his brother to bring him out of his current nightmare.

When he did he stopped in his tracks nearly unable to move as relief surged through him. Bobby's eyes were open, his hand resting on Sam's shoulder calming him as he slept. His eyes met Dean's and he saw recognition in them as a small pain filled grin split the older hunters face.

Dean smiled, the first genuine smile to cross his face since he'd picked up his friend out in the cave two days ago because he knew, without a doubt that Bobby was going to be okay.

- The end

**A/N – Okay... this one was a pretty quick story, but hopefully emotional and action packed. I can only tell you that the story took a total left turn from where I originally thought it was going, but what can I say. I write what the voices in my head tell me to write! Please review... **


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